


Rogue Mufflers

by being_whovian



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Headaches, Humour (sort of), Rogue Mufflers, Romance (if you squint), cuteness, paracetamol, sleeping aids, sleepy Time Lord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_whovian/pseuds/being_whovian
Summary: He may be the cleverest man in the Universe, but not when it came to telling the difference between a sleeping tablet and a paracetamol tablet!





	Rogue Mufflers

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for fic_promptly! I thought this was quite cute to be honest! Also I'm going to certainly use the Rogue Mufflers again at some point haha! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who! It belongs to the BBC! I do own the Rogue Mufflers!

Clara was cleaning up the kitchen when the unmistakable wheeze of the TARDIS filled her flat. She could hear all of her recently graded papers fluttering up into the air in the gusts of wind that followed her landing.

Clara stayed where she was, placing two striped clean mugs on the side by her kettle which had seen better days. She had made note not to leave the Doctor alone in her flat after that day. The kettle had never been the same. She smiled at the memory.

She got milk from the fridge, and sugar from the cupboard above the sink. It was a little bit tedious always having to stand on her tip toes just to reach something in her own home. The Doctor however always seemed highly amused by the sight.

She began making tea as she always did on a Wednesday. _Four sugars and the tiniest dash of milk. Stirred six times one way and three the other._ No wonder the kids accused her of fancying him... she grinned when she heard the squeak of the door opening.

 _'Morning.'_  she said brightly, stood in her shorts and strappy top, slippers still on her feet. She never got dressed until they were just about to set off. She loved to watch his face when she joked about not being able to choose something to wear. However her smile disappeared at the sight of him. He looked haggard, his clothes torn and muddy. His wild grey curls were flat and his eyes were half closed. _'What on earth happened to you?'_ she cried, dashing to the cramped dining table, placing the mugs down. She ran to him, taking his pale hand in hers leading him to one of the chairs.

 _'It's nothing really.'_  he replied, flopping down into the chair, limbs all over the place. He tried his best to smile, yet it came as more of a grimace. Clara fussed at him, backs of her hands pressing against his cheeks and forehead. He flapped at her with a huff. _'Will you stop? I'm fine.'_

Clara stood back, worry in her eyes yet a scowl on her lips. He was insufferably stubborn. She spun quickly and stalked to one of the bottom cupboards, grabbing out a tupaware box filled with different tablets, unboxed. As she walked back to the table she noticed him running at his temples rather roughly. She placed the box in front of him, pushing the steaming mug of tea towards him.

 _'There should be an extra strength paracetamol in there somewhere.'_  she said, running a hand softly through his hair. He sighed, pulling the lid off the box rather clumsily. She placed a kiss on the top of his head whispering, _'I think the big bad Time Lord has a headache.'_

_'Hmm, it feels like someone's stomping on my brain. How do you lot cope with this?'_

She smiled as she stood straight, reaching over to grab her mug. She watched him fumble and throw the different packs of tablets around the table, eyes slightly unfocused. _'Practice_.' she said with a laugh, giving his tense shoulder a gentle squeeze as she walked passed and into the living room.

*

She hadn't been sat long on her own when she heard the unmistakable grumble of the Doctor enter the room, mugless and looking absolutely horrendous. She sat up and gestured for him to sit with her on the poky little couch. He didn't object. She placed her mug on the coffee table and leaned back into the cushions.

_'Did you take one?'_

_'Yes...'_

_'How do you feel?_ ' she asked, concerned by the fact his speech had slurred slightly. He turned his head and smiled slightly.

_'Like I've been run over by a herd of Rogue Mufflers...'_

She bit her lip. She remembered the Rogue Mufflers. They were something of a cross between a Rhinoceros and an Elephant. They were ginormous galactic creatures that had little spacial awareness and would accidentally trample you if you noticed them too late.

She watched as his eyes dropped closed almost suddenly. She watched his chest begin to rise and fall steadily and his body melt into the cushions on the couch. Clara raised an eyebrow. She got up slowly as not to wake him and went to the kitchen.

Picking up the pack which was missing a tablet, she rolled her eyes with a groan.

* _'You may be the cleverest man in the world.... but you aren't half stupid sometimes.'_ * she said glancing through the doorway at the sleeping figure on her couch. He'd taken one of her sleeping tablets, instead of the extra strength paracetamol.


End file.
